


Party Planning

by curiouselfqueen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, HP: EWE, Halloween, Malfoy Manor, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Triad - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 14:31:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14334510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiouselfqueen/pseuds/curiouselfqueen
Summary: '“I hate this time of year,” he said so softly that Ginny may not have heard him had she not known what he was going to say.  They all hated this time of the year.  It’s why they had a huge party every year.  After the war it had been the only way to keep Harry from drowning in his depression.  It only took one year of having to take Harry to St. Mungo’s for each of them to promise themselves to never let it happen again.Instead, they had a party to make it a celebration.'***********Draco and Ginny are searching for Halloween decorations in the Manor's attic while worrying about their husband.This was originally a Halloween/Birthday gift fic posted on tumblr in 2017





	Party Planning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [disillusionist9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disillusionist9/gifts).



> Gift fic for @disillusionist9 :-D  
> Prompt: Draco/Ginny → disembodied hand (within a Halloween theme)  
> ...I turned it into a triad because I couldn't help myself

Were they not up several stories high in the most remote attic the Mannor housed, the dark and dusty space could have been mistaken for a catacomb. Chests, trunks and a few containers that definitely looked like coffins were piled on top of each other, row after row. So tightly packed was the space that absolutely no light shone in from the rafters.

Small rustlings from a bat or mouse kicked up dust as the critters scurried away from the two making their way through the piles of ancient artifacts. The only light present came from two glowing orbs hovering above the heads of the master of the house and the redhead at his side.

“Good thing you’ve managed to keep fit all these years or you wouldn’t be able to fit through here,” the ginger teased as she turned another tight corner.

“Watch your mouth, Weasley or I’ll make sure to shut it for you…” Draco was straining his neck looking above him. He could barely believe how high the stacks reached. There had to be some kind of magical extension and containment charms on the room. There was too much in here and he knew it was stored well out of the way for good reason. How had he let the witch talk him into coming up here? Again.

Ginny popped her head back around the corner. “Words, words… Always empty threats with you,” she smirked and disappeared again behind what looked like an ancient armoire. “Besides, I don’t think that threat even made sense,” her disembodied voice continued.

Draco peeled his eyes away from the rune-covered chest in front of him and swiftly made his way to wherever Ginny had disappeared to. He rounded the corner and saw her light glowing from down another aisle. For a moment he wondered if the maze during the Triwizard tournament was anything like this mess. Though he was sure the magic from the house elves preserving the space also prevented unwanted ghouls and other maladies from making their way up here, he was perfectly ready to admit there may be a boggart or two in this attic. While he was confident in his ability to fight off such a creature, he wasn’t so sure that he wanted to see what it would deal him.

The clinking of glass caught his ear, and as Draco turned the corner he saw Ginny rummaging through a trunk on the ground. How she had even managed to pull out the mass without toppling everything else over was a mystery. 

“Ginerva, I still do not understand why you demand to hike up here every year, insistent on finding party decorations.”

Ginny huffed, “You know why. We make it a big deal every year. I do not understand why you complain about it every year despite knowing it’s coming. Or why you insist on joining me when you’re going to complain the entire time.”

“You know full well I am not going to let you wander around by yourself up here. It is a –”

“Dangerous endeavour every time we come. There’s no way to know what could be up here… Yada, yada. I can take care of myself, you know.” She hefted a glass case out of the trunk and held it out to Draco to take.

“Yes, which is why you’re the auror of the family,” he said as he took the bell jar out of her hands. “Wait, that would be–”

“Alright,” Ginny said as she stood quickly and stepped towards Draco. “Do you want to fight?! What is this about, Draco? You knew we were coming up here, I know you don’t like it, but we do it every year and you don’t have to come. Some years may have passed but I can still hold my own, you know.” Draco took a step back from his increasingly angry wife, grasping the jar closely to his chest.

“Yes, I know,” Draco said softly, taking a steadying breath. “It’s one of the reasons I love you. And quite possibly the only way this marriage works.” Ginny huffed and crossed her arms tightly.

“What is this about, Draco? What’s going on with you?”

“I hate this time of year,” he said so softly that Ginny may not have heard him had she not known what he was going to say. They all hated this time of the year. It’s why they had a huge party every year. After the war it had been the only way to keep Harry from drowning in his depression. It only took one year of having to take Harry to St. Mungo’s for each of them to promise themselves to never let it happen again.

Instead, they had a party to make it a celebration. At first it had been about making Halloween silly and fun; trying to recapture the childish trick-or-treating Harry had never had. Over the years everyone began weaving their own traditions into the celebration. Draco and Hermione taught everyone the holiday’s histories and origins; Narcissa wanted to perform and teach old magic rites. Molly was a wiz at costumes and it turned out so was Pansy. Seamus, Dean, Blaise and the Weasley brothers always made sure the party kept going until nobody could move. Ron was actually the one to begin the party planning conversation every year. Ginny was always on decoration duty and had mastered a mix between genuine spook and hokey fun.

Still grasping the bell jar tightly to his chest, he turned to set it down on an empty shelf. Ginny walked up behind him and slid her arms around his waist. “I hate it too,” she whispered. “We all hate it. That’s why we do this for him.”

Draco covered her arms with his own, reveling in the warmth of her freckled skin next to his. He closed his eyes and turned in her arms that never let him go. Slipping his arms around her waist, he pulled her tight and bent his head to rest his forehead against hers.

He breathed her in and could feel her magic reaching out to him there in the dark. This woman who was the light of his life, the one who was always able to pull her men out of their morose moods. He thought of Harry, his saving grace. The one who pushed him constantly to do and be better than he thought he ever could be. They were an odd trio, and they knew it.

Ginny pulled away just enough to look up at Draco. “We’d better go,” she whispered. “Harry’s going to wonder where we’ve gone off to.”

“Psh,” Draco said as he turned away to pick up the bell jar once more. “Woman, if you think you’re able to pull any surprises on that man, you really have become delusional.”

“And so are you if you don’t think I know how to fool either of my husbands after all these years.”

“You worry me sometimes.”

“Good. Now careful with that disembodied hand. It’s probably cursed.”


End file.
